One of Those Days
by AragothwinElfBlade
Summary: Why is it always him...Humor drabble, ChloeChase friendfic


A/N: Okay, I promise Talk It Out will get updated tommorow, but my computer puked. This was written for Josh, who hasbeen theChase-muse in all my stories. Thanks man.

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It was one of those days. Chase swallowed and clutched the box of chocolates closer to his chest. If all went well, it would pay for his right to remain breathing in her presence. Jack had already made the mistake of getting too close today. According to Michelle, fearless Jack Bauer was hiding in his office nursing what was left of his pride. Chloe had shredded the rest of it.

Because of his position as the-one-person-Chloe-considered-a-friend-because-Jack-doesn't-count, Chase was the de facto sacrificial goat when someone needed something from the analyst on days like these.

This time Tony wanted the report, and what Tony wanted Tony got. The man pissed off Chase to no end, even more than Chapelle. If the younger agent hadn't liked Michelle so much, he would have told Tony to get his own damn report. But Michelle wouldn't be happy when her husband was prevented from fathering kids by a petite blonde on PMS.

Though, the reason why people seemed to think that Chloe wouldn't do the same to him eluded him. Probably because she hadn't tried to forcefully remove any of his essential parts yet.

Like a wary cat trying to get around a sleeping mastiff, Chase crept towards Chloe's desk. The golden box was held out in front of him as a shield. It should keep her at bay long enough to get the report he needed.

"Hey," he smiled slightly, not enough to offend, but enough not to look annoyed either. "I brought you chocolate." Chloe looked up to glare at him. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy, and the huge yellow-green sweatshirt she was wearing did nothing for her. The blonde strands that made up her hair frizzed every which way, giving her the appearance of being electrocuted. As Chase watched she sniffled slightly.

It was hard to imagine the pitiful, miserable looking Chloe as being dangerous. But Chase had seen first hand the damage she could inflict in this state. Of course, the guy had been asking for it, but that didn't make him any less nervous. For her slim stature, Chloe hit _hard_. And where she had hit the jerk, well…Chase made a point after that to stay on her good side.

Hence, chocolate. Not some Hersheys bar either. No, Chase had gone all out. The box was a sixteen pack of chocolate-caramel lovers' truffles from Godiva. He'd picked them up this morning on the way to the CTU, along with the blue iris flower arrangement he'd left on her desk this morning. It never hurt to flatter a woman on her bad days. That was the theory Chase was working with at least.

Based on Chloe's reaction, snatching the box out of his hands but leaving them attached, Chase was fairly sure it was working. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Do you have the Czech report done?"

One truffle was already in her mouth when she directed him towards the printer tray with an imperious gesture. Picking it up, Chase backed slowly out of her office. His smile stayed firmly fixed until the door closed and he could flee without fear of her seeing his undignified retreat…Right into Jack.

The senior agent glanced around wildly before dragging Chase behind him into an empty conference room. Closing the door, he turned and demanded, "Where's Chloe?" He sounded panicked.

Biting his lower lip stopped Chase from grinning. "In her office, Jack. It's cool, I gave her some chocolate. She should be almost approachable until lunch." His reassurance wasn't effective. Jack was muttering furiously to himself. "Look," Chase sighed and pulled out his secret weapon. "If you see her, toss this at her and run. I guarantee she won't follow you. More effective than anything, including drugging her into oblivion, because she won't kill you afterwards."

With an incredulous look Jack accepted it. "This will stop Chloe on hormone driven warpath?" he asked doubtfully.

Chase nodded firmly. "Hundred percent guarantee. I've used it myself."

Hefting the eight ounce dark chocolate bar, Jack considered. "Thanks. But I'd still feel better if you got the Naples report."

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Written for the pysch30 challenge #11 castration anxiety. 


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